


Secrets

by TruthfulDeceiver



Series: Short Stories [SPM] [4]
Category: Super Paper Mario (Game)
Genre: BIG MOOD, Gen, oh dimentio i may not kin you but the last line of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 06:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14326863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruthfulDeceiver/pseuds/TruthfulDeceiver
Summary: Dimentio's being areallybad confidant.Ditch him, BleckCharacters: Dimentio, Count Bleck, Nastasia





	Secrets

“Is this one of those times when you want me to lie to protect your delicate emotions?” Dimentio asked, mocking Bleck.

He was standing in the air just so he could look the Count right back in the face. His mask was still smiling. “Because, as always, your word is my command and I’d silence myself.” Dimentio continued, “But if I’m to be honest, I know you think of us as nothing more than tools.”

“Quiet.”

The jester pretended not to hear him.

 _“Dearest Count.”_ The words bit back spitefully, “If you don’t think of Nastasia and I as your tools, then it’s definite that you at least have that idea with Mimikins and O’Chunks.”

“Dimentio-” Count Bleck warned.

Dimentio’s smile fell into a scowl, and he turned away. “Fine, Count.” He sighed, “But if you wanted someone more…” He paused, glancing back. “If you wanted someone a lot more sensitive – that wouldn’t restate the facts, you should wait for Nastasia to return.”

“I don’t understand why you push her away in the first place.” Dimentio admitted, falling back to the ground and looking up at the Count. “She clearly cares a lot about you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you felt the same. But you hide it.”

“Almost as well as you do.” Bleck returned to being almost silent and solemn.

“Yes, yes.” Dimentio waved it away, “But that’s natural for me. For you, on the other hand…” Mischief returned to his eyes. “There are some things you’ve told me that you haven’t even admitted to her. Terrible, terrible things.”

The Count grimaced, “Perhaps…”

Dimentio laughed lightly. “Don’t worry. I have  _some_  decency to hold some secrets.”

“Although,” He continued, smiling once again. “Most of that space is cluttered with my own, so, you never know.”

Silence sunk in between them, Dimentio waited for a response.

“I’m not complaining, of course, but I do have a question you still haven’t answered.” Now was as good a time as any to bring this up. He felt… a bit uncomfortable having someone rely on him this much without wanting to be close.

It was easier when he had something to base off what he was supposed to mimic. With Bleck, it was only sorrow, but with the minions Dimentio had to be cheerful and all. The two wouldn’t mix for the personality he was supposed to keep up. It wasn’t… impossible, but he would admit it was difficult at times.

“Yes?”

“Why do you entrust me with these things?”

Another dose of silent treatment. Dimentio wanted to find some excuse to leave, but he couldn’t. Something screamed at him to stay. To listen.

“Because you’ve been forced to confess a lot. To not return that would be… wrong.”

“I see.”

But the jester couldn’t understand. All he did was introduce himself and answer their questions with a laugh and a simple, swift answer to get it over with.

“Well, I’m going to check on the other two.” Dimentio chuckled, “Let’s hope they haven’t torn up our meeting area, yes? Ciao, Count.”

He never checked on them. He, instead, went back to his temporary room in the castle. It was always going to be temporary to him, even though they had all the minions and were “officially” moved in. He couldn’t allow anything too personal attach itself between his mind and anyone here.

_A cold glare pierced his eyes, rivaling his own, taunting gaze._

_“Do you have any family?” Nastasia asked stiffly._

_“Of course.” He answered, giggling at the thought of it. Technically, he used to have some type of ‘family’. “But their games were over before they begun.”_

_She tried not to look so uncomfortable._

_“How old are you?”_

_“What does this have to do with anything?” He looked up at the Count, wondering which of the two put together these questions._

_“Answer the question, Dimentio.”_

_“No idea. Next?”_

_“N-No idea?” Nastasia sputtered, “You don’t keep track of it?”_

_“Of course not.” He snorted, “False conceptions. Why should I care about time? It only makes me worry for how long I have left before everything I’ve done ends up invalid.”_

_“Fair enough… I guess.” She sighed._

The conversation continued in his head. At least, until he heard the door open. He snapped his head up to see who it was, forcing his mask immediately back to a smile.

“Oh…” Nastasia tried to smile. “Well, I’m back. Where’s the Count? Do you know?”

“He’s not in his room?” Dimentio feigned innocence, looking away from her, uninterested. “No idea.”

These dull people needed some excitement in their lives. Sometimes, they didn’t even know how to act properly.

“I, uh, okay.” She didn’t even say goodbye.

Good. Dimentio didn’t want to be forced to say a word more. He set himself down on the ground of the mostly-empty room.

It was a long day of trying to decipher the vague concept of emotion these fools held so close. A long, painful day of acting happy in front of an audience who would care less.

He just wanted to sleep without being interrupted by incompetent ‘villains’.

He wished the plan could execute without him being required.

Dimentio was tired of everything


End file.
